Literature. f o r Y o u n g P e o p l e. L i v i n g Books Press TM. Henrietta Elizabeth Marshall. Edited by Sheila Carroll.

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1 E n g l i s h Literature f o r Y o u n g P e o p l e by Henrietta Elizabeth Marshall Author of Our Island Story, Scotland s Story, Our Empire Story, This Country of Ours With 20 Drawings by John R. Skelton plus additional illustrations by various artists Edited by Sheila Carroll Bobbie Dailey L i v i n g Books Press TM M o u n t Pleasa n t, Michiga n h i g h qua l i t y literat u r e w w w.livingbookspress.com

2 English Literature for Young People is an unabridged edition of the original text English Literature for Boys and Girls, written by H.E. Marshall, first published in 1909 by Frederick A. Stokes Company, New York. The text has been gently edited for clarity. Living Books Press TM Publishers of classic living books 5497 Gilmore Road Mt. Pleasant, Michigan Living Books Press Design and prepress by Carrousel Graphics, Jackson, Wyoming ISBN: hard cover ISBN: soft cover Printed in the United States of America. Living Books Press is the publishing company of Living Books Curriculum, a complete K-8 Christian homeschooling solution based on the visionary philosophy of pioneering educator Charlotte Mason. To learn more, visit our website: iv

3 Table of Contents John R. Skelton Drawings... viii Editor s Preface...xi Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 In the Listening Time...1 The Story of the Cattle Raid of Cooley...4 One of the Sorrows of Storytelling...9 The Story of a Literary Lie...13 The Story of Fingal...17 About Some Old Welsh Stories and Storytellers...22 How the Story of Arthur was Written in English...29 The Beginning of the Reading Time...36 The Passing of Arthur...42 Chapter 10 The Adventures of an Old English Book...47 Chapter 11 The Story of Beowulf...52 Chapter 12 The Father of English Song...57 Chapter 13 How Caedmon Sang, and How He Fell Once More on Silence...63 Chapter 14 The Father of English History...68 Chapter 15 How Alfred the Great Fought with His Pen...75 Chapter 16 When English Slept...78 Chapter 17 The Story of Havelok the Dane...82 Chapter 18 About Some Song Stories...87 Chapter 19 Piers Ploughman...94 Chapter 20 Piers Ploughman continued...99 Chapter 21 How the Bible Came to the People Chapter 22 Chaucer Bread and Milk for Children Chapter 23 Chaucer The Canterbury Tales Chapter 24 Chaucer At the Tabard Inn Chapter 25 The First English Guidebook Chapter 26 Barbour The Bruce, The Beginnings of a Struggle Chapter 27 Barbour The Bruce, The End of the Struggle Chapter 28 A Poet King Chapter 29 The Death of the Poet King Chapter 30 Dunbar The Wedding of the Thistle and the Rose Chapter 31 At the Sign of the Red Pale Chapter 32 About the Beginning of the Theatre Chapter 33 How the Shepherds Watched Their Flocks v

4 Chapter 34 The Story of Everyman Chapter 35 How a Poet Comforted a Girl Chapter 36 The Renaissance Chapter 37 The Land of Nowhere Chapter 38 The Death of Sir Thomas More Chapter 39 How the Sonnet Came to England Chapter 40 The Beginning of Blank Verse Chapter 41 Spenser The Shepherd s Calendar Chapter 42 Spenser The Faerie Queene Chapter 43 Spenser His Last Days Chapter 44 About the First Theatres Chapter 45 Shakespeare The Boy Chapter 46 Shakespeare The Man Chapter 47 Shakespeare The Merchant of Venice Chapter 48 Jonson Every Man in His Humour Chapter 49 Jonson The Sad Shepherd Chapter 50 Raleigh The Revenge Chapter 51 Raleigh The History of the World Chapter 52 Bacon New Ways of Wisdom Chapter 53 Bacon The Happy Island Chapter 54 About Some Lyric Poets Chapter 55 Herbert The Parson Poet Chapter 56 Herrick and Marvell Of Blossoms and Bowers Chapter 57 Milton Sight and Growth Chapter 58 Milton Darkness and Death Chapter 59 Bunyan The Pilgrim s Progress Chapter 60 Dryden The New Poetry Chapter 61 Defoe The First Newspapers Chapter 62 Defoe Robinson Crusoe Chapter 63 Swift The Journal to Stella Chapter 64 Swift Gulliver s Travels Chapter 65 Addison The Spectator Chapter 66 Steele The Soldier-Author Chapter 67 Pope The Rape of the Lock Chapter 68 Johnson Days of Struggle Chapter 69 Johnson The End of the Journey Chapter 70 Goldsmith The Vagabond Chapter 71 Goldsmith The Vicar of Wakefield vi

5 Chapter 72 Burns The Ploughman Poet Chapter 73 Cowper The Task Chapter 74 Wordsworth The Poet of Nature Chapter 75 Wordsworth and Coleridge The Lake Poets Chapter 76 Coleridge and Southey Sunshine and Shadow Chapter 77 Scott The Awakening of Romance Chapter 78 Scott The Wizard of the North Chapter 79 Byron Childe Harold s Pilgrimage Chapter 80 Shelley The Poet of Love Chapter 81 Keats The Poet of Beauty Chapter 82 Carlyle The Sage of Chelsea Chapter 83 Thackeray The Cynic? Chapter 84 Dickens Smiles and Tears Chapter 85 Tennyson The Poet of Friendship Additions to the Living Books Press Edition Chronological List of Writers British Money About The Author Maps Books Recommended by the Author H.E. Marshall s Original Preface Index vii

6 John R. Skelton Drawings From the 1909 Edition published by Frederick A. Stokes Co., New York Books were written and copied in the monasteries... ii Minstrels sang of the famous deeds of heroes...23 Caedmon, sing some song to me...60 Langland dreamed a wondrous dream Expelled from the University, Wycliffe went into the country and there wrote and taught It is a company of pilgrims such as this that Chaucer paints for us, he himself being of the company Great nobles visited Caxton s workshop The demons were generally funny Spenser read the first part of his book, The Faerie Queene, to Raleigh It was only master Shakespeare Ben and his host had many a long talk together, discussing men and books Bacon was generally accompanied by a gentleman of his household, who was ready to set down his thoughts My maid (my Prue), by good luck sent, To save That little, Fates me gave or lent Milton sitting in his garden at the door of his house During his imprisonment Bunyan wrote The Pilgrim s Progress Addison and Steele between them imagined a club There is no arguing with Johnson, said Goldsmith, for when his pistol misses fire he knocks you down with the butt end of it viii

7 Wee, modest, crimson-tipped flow r, Thou s met me in an evil hour; For I maun crush amang the stoure Thy splendor stem. To spare thee now is past my pow r, Thou bonnie gem Scott would sit and talk with a poor man in his cottage Carlyle and Tennyson talked and smoked together ix

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9 Editor s Preface everyone who writes a literature for young people begins with an apology for writing it, and with an explanation of why they wrote it. We explain that in spite of the many excellent literatures published none exactly suits our purpose and, while apologizing for adding to the number, we proceed to write one to please ourselves. my desire has been to produce a book which a boy or girl will read, not as a task, but as a pleasure. Henrietta Elizabeth Marshall 1909 Preface English Literature for Young People is a wonderful read. It entices you into a love of English literature from its first pages. The book was written for an audience born when Queen Victoria was sovereign of Great Britain and Ireland and Empress of India. World War One was not even a cloud on the horizon. Yet, Marshall s words are as fresh and engaging today as they were then. Originally published under the titles The Child s English Literature and English Literature for Boys and Girls, Marshall intended the book as an amusing and lively description of the history of British literature for older students. Rather than produce another dry textbook she wrote the story of British literature. It is a masterly account of 1500 years of the literary arts in Great Britain. Marshall s gift for telling a good story makes this book easy to read. After her success with Our Island Story, a children s history of Great Britain, which won her fame, she turned to other histories. She was a remarkable writer, completing over 15 histories and retellings of wellknown works, such as Song of Roland and Beowulf. Very likely she wrote English Literature for Young People overseas, although the original preface names Oxford, England. Marshall s book takes us from the dim, far-off times when storypoems were told before the peat fires to Chaucer to Alexander Pope to Alfred Lord Tennyson. Nearly all the greatest works of English literature are introduced here. Each chapter includes a narrative of a particular work, its historical setting and excerpts from the actual work, including xi

10 some in older forms of English. Marshall s delightful study provides the background a student needs before beginning a larger study of the Great Books in English. The author selected over 56 writers for her book out of hundreds possible. The greatest writers works are included without question Shakespeare, Chaucer, Milton, Tennyson, Dickens, Wordsworth. Other writers, less familiar to our modern ears, can also be found in these pages Sackville, Davenant, and Marvell to name a few. There are some surprises in the book, too. Marshall includes men who are not strictly literary writers or, in one instance (Caxton), a writer at all. Another surprise is whom she leaves out. Jane Austen and Charlotte Bronte are noticeably absent, while Dickens is included. Of the poets, John Donne and his poignant poems, such as On His Blindness, are not included. Anne Bradstreet and Thomas Traherne s astonishing poems of the spiritual life are also missing. Why? You can t include everyone and choices had to be made. It is these choices which can guide us in a better understanding of the book. You will see that the author chose many works of beauty and originality, but I don t believe that was her main reason for her preferences. After all, the Bible translations from Latin to English are there, as are The Saxon Chronicles a listing of dates and names. These are works of a very different order and are not only literary but rather religious or historical. Here is the reason: each of the works played a key role in the development of the English language from ancient to modern times. Each of these works stands as a representative of the age in which it was written. You can see this fact in the author s story which weaves in and out of history and literature; showing us you cannot have one without the other. Another wonderful feature of English Literature for Young People, at least for teachers and parents, is how the author introduces young people to thinking critically about works of art. Throughout the book, the author talks to the reader, sometimes as an aside, about what to look for or why a literary work failed or succeeded. For example, of Piers the Ploughman she says: The poem is rambling and disconnected But perhaps the chief interest and value of Piers Ploughman is that it is history. (p.113) xii

11 So Marshall reassures us that we don t have to see every work as equally good even if it s in a book about English literature. She shows us that there is well-written and not so well-written. She also shows us there can be works of great insight, such as Bunyan s Pilgrim s Progress, but their beauty and originality are not in the eloquent writing, but in the story. There is a huge difference on several levels between Christian s journey to the Celestial City and King Lear s or Hamlet s journey to self-discovery. Yet both are literature and both have important things to say about what it means to be human. Perhaps, in the end, that is the measure of a work. How much can it tell us about who we really are? The Living Books Press edition of English Literature for Young People is a republication of the 1909 edition. While faithful to the original, we have made a number of additions that we hope enhance the enjoyment and usefulness: a biography of H.E. Marshall, an expanded Chronology of Writers, including historical dates, a bibliography of books recommended by the author, and maps of the British Isles. In addition, several elements of the book have been enhanced. The index, always handy for finding a writer or work, is sparse in the original. For example, the 1909 edition offers four instances of the word satire, yet there are several more mentions of this genre in the text. The Living Books Press edition cites 15 instances of satire. Living Books Press would like to thank Bobbie Dailey, graphic designer and artist of Jackson, Wyoming, for her work on the text and illustrations. Bobbie s layout and design, her work converting the color illustrations by J.R. Skelton to black and white, and the inclusion of additional photographs and historical illustrations have improved the quality of the book significantly. To all the first-time readers of English Literature for Young People, I wish you as much pleasure in the reading as the author intended and I enjoyed. Sheila Carroll mount Pleasant, Michigan 2011 xiii

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13 Chapter 1 * In the Listening Time Has there ever been a time when no stories were told? Has there ever been a people who did not care to listen? I think not. When we were little, before we could read for ourselves, did we not gather eagerly round father or mother, friend or nurse, at the promise of a story? When we grew older, what happy hours did we not spend with our books. How the printed words made us forget the world in which we live, and carried us away to a wonderland, Where waters gushed and fruit trees grew And flowers put forth a fairer hue, And everything was strange and new; The sparrows were brighter than peacocks here, And their dogs outran our fallow deer, And honey bees had lost their stings, And horses were born with eagles wings. Robert Browning And as it is with us, so it is with a nation, with a people. In the dim, far-off times when our forefathers were wild, naked savages, they had no books. Like ourselves, when we were tiny, they could neither read nor write. But do you think that they had no stories? Oh, yes! We may be sure that when the day s work was done, when the fight or the chase was over, they gathered round the wood fire and listened to the tales of the storyteller. These stories were all of war. They told of terrible combats with men or with fierce strange beasts, they told of passion, of revenge. In them there was no beauty, no tenderness, no love. For the life of man in those far-off days was wild and rough; it was one long struggle against foes, a struggle which left little room for what was beautiful or tender. 1

14 English Literature But as time went on, as life became more easy, in one way or another the savage learned to become less savage. Then as he changed, the tales he listened to changed too. They were no longer all of war, of revenge; they told of love also. And later, when the story of Christ had come to soften men s hearts and brighten men s lives, the stories told of faith and purity and gentleness. At last a time came when minstrels wandered from town to town, from castle to castle, singing their lays. 1 And the minstrel who had a good tale to tell was ever sure of a welcome, and for his pains he was rewarded with money, jewels, and even land. That was the true listening time of the world. It was no easy thing to be a minstrel, and a man often spent ten or twelve years in learning to be one. There were certain tales which all minstrels had to know, and the best among them could tell three hundred and fifty. Of these stories the minstrels used to learn only the outline, and each told the story in his own way, filling it in according to his own fancy. So as time went on these well-known tales came to be told in many different ways, changing as the times changed. At length, after many years had passed, men began to write down these tales, so that they might not be forgotten. These first books we call Manuscripts, from the Latin words manus, a hand, and scribere, to write, for they were all written by hand. Even after they were written down there were many changes made in the tales, for those who wrote or copied them would sometimes miss lines or alter others. Yet they were less changed than they had been when told only by word of mouth. These stories then form the beginnings of what is called our Literature. Literature really means letters, for it comes from a Latin word littera, meaning a letter of the alphabet. Words are made by letters of the alphabet being set together, and our literature again by words being set together; hence the name. As on and on time went, every year more stories were told and sung and written down. The first stories which our forefathers told in the days long, long ago, and which were never written down, are lost forever. Even many of those stories which were written are lost too, but a few still remain, and from them we can learn much of the life and the history of the people who lived in our land ten and twelve hundred years ago, or more. For a long time books were all written by hand. They were very scarce and dear, and only the wealthy could afford to have them, and few could 2

15 In the Listening Time read them. Even great knights and nobles could not read, for they spent all their time in fighting and hunting, and had little time in which to learn. So it came about that the monks who lived a quiet and peaceful life became the learned men. It was in the monasteries that books were written and copied. There too they were kept, and the monasteries became not only the schools, but the libraries of the country. As a nation grows and changes, its literature grows and changes with it. At first it asks only for stories, then it asks for history for its own sake, and for poetry for its own sake; history, I mean, for the knowledge it gives us of the past; poetry for joy in the beautiful words, and not merely for the stories they tell. Then, as a nation s needs and knowledge grow, it demands ever more and more books on all kinds of subjects. And we ourselves grow and change just as a nation does. When we are very young, there are many books which seem to us dull and stupid. But as we grow older and learn more, we begin to like more and more kinds of books. We may still love the stories that we loved as children, but we love others too. And at last, perhaps, there comes a time when those books which seemed to us most dull and stupid delight us the most. At first, too, we care only for the story itself. We do not mind very much in what words it is told so long as it is a story. But later we begin to care very much indeed what words the storyteller uses, and how he uses them. It is only, perhaps, when we have learned to hear with our eyes that we know the true joy of books. Yes, hear with our eyes, for it is joy in the sound of the words that makes our breath come fast, which brings smiles to our lips or tears to our eyes. Yet we do not need to read the words aloud, the sight of the black letters on the white page is enough. In this book I am going to tell you about a few of our greatest storytellers and their books. Many of these books you will not care to read for yourselves for a long time to come. You must be content to be told about them. You must be content to know that there are rooms in the fairy palace of our Literature into which you cannot enter yet. But every year, as your knowledge grows, you will find that new keys have been put into your hands with which you may unlock the doors which are now closed. And with every door that you unlock, you will become aware of others and still others that are yet shut fast, until at last you learn with something of pain, that the great palace of our Literature is so vast that you can never hope to open all the doors even to peep inside. 1. Robert Browning. 3

16 Chapter 2 The Story of the Cattle Raid of Cooley Our earliest literature was history and poetry. Indeed, we might say poetry only, for in those far-off times history was always poetry, it being only through the songs of the bards and minstrels that history was known. And when I say history I do not mean history as we know it. It was then merely the gallant tale of some hero s deeds listened to because it was a gallant tale. Now the people who lived in the British Isles long ago were not English. It will be simplest for us to call them all Celts and to divide them into two families, the Gaels and the Cymry. The Gaels lived in Ireland and in Scotland, and the Cymry in England and Wales. It is to Ireland that we must go for the very beginnings of our Literature, for the Roman conquest did not touch Ireland, and the English, who later conquered and took possession of Britain, hardly troubled the Green Isle. So for centuries the Gaels of Ireland told their tales and handed them on from father to son undisturbed, and in Ireland a great many old writings have been kept which tell of far-off times. None of these old Irish manuscripts are perhaps older than the eleventh century, but the stories are far, far older. They were, we may believe, passed on by word of mouth for many generations before they were written down, and they have kept the feeling of those far-off times. It was from Ireland that the Scots came to Scotland, and when they came they brought with them many tales. So it comes about that in old Scottish and in old Irish manuscripts we find the same stories. Many of the manuscripts which are kept in Ireland have never been translated out of the old Irish in which they were written, so they are closed books to all but a few scholars, and we need not talk about them. But of one of the great treasures of old Irish literature we will talk. This is 4

17 The Story of the Cat tle Raid of Cooley the Leabhar Na h-uidhre, or Book of the Dun Cow. It is called so because the stories in it were first written down by St. Ciaran in a book made from the skin of a favorite cow of a dun color. That book has long been lost, and this copy of it was made in the eleventh century. The name of this old book helps us to remember that long ago there was no paper, and that books were written on vellum made from calf-skin and upon parchment made from sheep-skin. It was not until the twelfth century that paper began to be made in some parts of Europe, and it was not until the fifteenth century that paper books became common in England. In the Book of the Dun Cow, and in another old book called the Book of Leinster, there is written the great Irish legend called the Tain Bo Chuailgne or The Cattle Raid of Cooley. This is a very old tale of the time soon after the birth of Christ. In the book we are told how this story had been written down long, long ago in a book called the Great Book Written on Skins. But a learned man carried away that book to the East. Then, when many years had passed, people began to forget the story of the Cattle Raid. So the Chief minstrel called all the other minstrels together to ask if any of them knew the tale. But none of them could remember more than a few verses of it. Therefore the chief minstrel asked all his pupils to travel into far countries to search for the rest which was lost. What followed is told differently in different books, but all agree in this, that a great chief called Fergus came back from the dead in order to tell the tale, which was again written down. The story is one of the beautiful Queen Meav of Connaught. For many years she had lived happily with her husband and her children. But one day the Queen and her husband began to argue as to which of them was the richer. As they could not agree, they ordered all their treasures to be brought before them that they might be compared. So first all their wooden and metal vessels were brought. But they were both alike. Then all their jewels, their rings and bracelets, necklets and crowns were brought, but they, too, were equal. Then all their robes were brought, crimson and blue, green, yellow, checked and striped, black and white. They, too, were equal. 5

18 English Literature Next from the fields and pastures great herds of sheep were brought. They, too, were equal. Then from the green plains fleet horses, champing steeds came. Great herds of swine from forest and glen were brought. They, too, were equal. Lastly, droves and droves of cattle were brought. In the King s herd there was a young bull named White-horned. When a calf, he had belonged to Meav s herd, but being very proud, and thinking it little honor to be under the rule of a woman, he had left Meav s herd and joined himself to the King s. This bull was very beautiful. His head and horns and hoofs were white, and all the rest of him was red. He was so great and splendid that in all the Queen s herd there was none to match him. Then Meav s sorrow was bitter, and calling a messenger, she asked if he knew where might be found a young bull to match with White-horned. The messenger replied that he knew of a much finer bull called Donn Chuailgne, or Brown Bull of Cooley, which belonged to Dawra, the chief of Ulster. Go then, said Meav, and ask Dawra to lend me the Bull for a year. Tell him that he shall be well repaid, that he shall receive fifty heifers and Brown Bull back again at the end of that time. And if Dawra should seem unwilling to lend Brown Bull, tell him that he may come with it himself, and that he shall receive here land equal to his own, a chariot worth thirtysix cows, and he shall have my friendship ever after. So taking with him nine others, the messenger set out and soon arrived at Cooley. And when Dawra heard why the messengers had come, he received them kindly, and said at once that they should have Brown Bull. Then the messengers began to speak and boast among themselves. It was well, said one, that Dawra granted us the Bull willingly, otherwise we had taken it by force. As he spoke, a servant of Dawra came with food and drink for the strangers, and hearing how they spoke among themselves, he hastily and in wrath dashed the food upon the table, and returning to his master repeated to him the words of the messenger. Then was Dawra very wrathful. And when, in the morning, the messengers came before him asking that he should fulfill his promise, he refused them. 6

19 The Story of the Cat tle Raid of Cooley So, empty-handed, the messengers returned to Queen Meav. And she, full of anger, decided to make good the boastful words of her messenger and take Brown Bull by force. Then began a mighty war between the men of Ulster and the men of Connaught. And after many fights there was a great battle in which Meav was defeated. Yet was she triumphant, for she had gained possession of the Brown Bull. But the Queen had little cause for triumph, for when Brown Bull and White-horned met there was a fearful combat between them. The whole land echoed with their bellowing. The earth shook beneath their feet and the sky grew dark with flying sods of earth and with flecks of foam. After long fighting Brown Bull conquered, and goring White-horned to death, ran off with him impaled upon his horns, shaking his shattered body to pieces as he ran. But Brown Bull, too, was wounded to death. Mad with pain and wounds, he returned to his own land, and there He lay down Against the hill, and his great heart broke there, And sent a stream of blood down all the slope; And thus, when all the war and Tain had ended, In his own land, midst his own hills, he died. 1 The Cattle Raid of Cooley is a strange, wild tale, yet from it we can learn a great deal about the life of these old, far-away times. We can learn from it something of what the people did and thought, and how they lived, and even of what they wore. Here is a description of a driver and his war chariot, translated, of course, into English prose. It is then that the charioteer arose, and he put on his hero s dress of charioteering. This was the hero s dress of charioteering that he put on: his soft tunic of deer skin, so that it did not restrain the movement of his hands outside. He put on his black upper cloak over it outside... The charioteer took first then his helm, ridged like a board, four-cornered... This was well measured to him, and it was not an over weight. His hand brought the circlet of red-yellow, as though it were a plate of red gold, of refined gold smelted over the edge of the anvil, to his brow as a sign of his charioteering, as a distinction to his master. He took the goads to his horses, and his whip inlaid in his right hand. He took the reins to hold back his horses in his left hand. Then he put 7

20 English Literature the iron inlaid breast-plate on his horses, so that they were covered from forehead to fore-foot with spears, and points, and lances, and hard points, so that every motion in this chariot was war-near, so that every corner, and every point, and every end, and every front of this chariot was a way of tearing. 2 We can almost see that wild charioteer and his horses, sheathed in bristling armor with every front a way of tearing, as they dash amid the foe. And all through we come on lines like these full of color and detail, which tell us of the life of those folk of long ago. 1. The Tain, by Mary A. Hutton. 2. The Cattle Raid of Cualngé, by L.W. Faraday. 8

21 Chapter 3 * One of the Sorrows of Storytelling The Tain gives us vivid pictures of people and things, but it is not full of beauty and of tender imagination like many of the Gaelic stories. Among the most beautiful and best known of these are perhaps the Three Sorrows of Storytelling. These three stories are called: The Tragedy of the Children of Lir; The Tragedy of the Children of Tuireann; and Deirdre and the Sons of Usnach. Of the three the last is perhaps the most interesting, because the story happened partly in Scotland and partly in Ireland, and it is found both in old Irish and in old Scottish manuscripts. The story is told in many old books, and in many ways both in prose and in verse. The oldest and shortest version is in the Book of Leinster, the same book in which is found The Tain. The tale goes that one day King Conor and his nobles feasted at the house of Felim, his chief storyteller. And while they feasted a daughter was born to Felim the storyteller. Then Cathbad the Druid, who was also at the feast, became exceeding sad. He foretold that great sorrow and evil should come upon the land because of this child, and so he called her Deirdre, which means trouble or alarm. When the nobles heard that, they wished to slay the newborn babe. But Conor spoke. Let it not be so done, he said. It were an ill thing to shed the blood of an innocent child. I myself shall care for her. She shall be housed in a safe place so that none may come nigh to her, and when she is grown she shall be my one true wife. So it was done as King Conor said. Deirdre was placed in a safe and lonely castle, where she was seen of none save her tutor and her nurse, Lavarcam. There, as the years passed, she grew tall and fair as a slender lily, and more beautiful than the sunshine. 9

22 English Literature Now when fourteen years had passed, it happened one snowy day that Deirdre s tutor killed a calf to provide food for their little company. And as the calf s blood was spilled upon the snow, a raven came to drink of it. When Deirdre saw that, she sighed and said, Would that I had a husband whose hair was as the color of the raven, his cheeks as blood, and his skin as snow. There is such a one, said Lavarcam, he is Naisi the son of Usnach. After that there was no rest for Deirdre until she had seen Naisi. And when they met they loved each other so that Naisi took her and fled with her to Scotland far from Conor the King. For they knew that when the King learned that fair Deirdre had been stolen from him, he would be exceeding wrathful. There, in Scotland, Deirdre and Naisi lived for many years happily. With them were Ainle and Ardan, Naisi s two brothers, who also loved their sister Deirdre well. But Conor never forgot his anger at the escape of Deirdre. He longed still to have her as his Queen, and at last he sent a messenger to lure the fair lady and the three brave brothers back to Ireland. Naisi and Deirdre were seated together one day, and between them Conor s chess board, they playing upon it. Naisi heard a cry and said, I hear the call of a man of Erin. That was not the call of a man of Erin, says Deirdre, but the call of a man of Alba. Deirdre knew the first cry of Fergus, but she concealed it. Fergus uttered the second cry. That is the cry of a man of Erin, says Naisi. It is not indeed, says Deirdre, and let us play on. Fergus sent forth the third cry, and the sons of Usnach knew it was Fergus that sent for the cry. And Naisi ordered Ardan to go to meet Fergus. Then Deirdre declared she knew the first call sent forth by Fergus. Why didst thou conceal it, then, my Queen? says Naisi. A vision I saw last night, says Deirdre, namely that three birds came unto us having three sups of honey in their beaks, and that they left them with us, and that they took three sups of our blood with them. What determination hast thou of that, O Princess? says Naisi. 10

23 One of the Sorrows of Storytelling It is, says Deirdre, that Fergus comes unto us with a message of peace from Conor, for more sweet is not honey than the message of peace of the false man. Let that be, says Naisi. Fergus is long in the port; and go, Ardan, to meet him and bring him with thee. 1 And when Fergus came there were kindly greetings between the friends who had been long parted. Then Fergus told the three brothers that Conor had forgiven them, and that he longed to see them back again in the land of Erin. So although the heart of Deirdre was sad and heavy with foreboding of evil, they set sail for the land of Erin. But Deirdre looked behind her as the shore faded from sight and sang a mournful song O eastern land I leave, I loved you well, Home of my heart, I love and loved you well, I ne er had left you had not Naisi left. 2 And so they fared on their journey and came at last to Conor s palace. And the story tells how the boding sorrow that Deirdre felt fulfilled itself, and how they were betrayed, and how the brothers fought and died, and how Deirdre mourned until Her heart-strings snapt, And death had overmastered her. She fell Into the grave where Naisi lay and slept. There at his side the child of Felim fell, The fair-haired daughter of a hundred smiles. Men piled their grave and reared their stone on high, And wrote their names in Ogham. 3 So they lay All four united in the dream of death. 4 Such in a few words is the story of Deirdre. But you must read the tale itself to find out how beautiful it is. That you can easily do, for it has been translated many times out of the old Gaelic in which it was first written and it has been told so simply that even those of you who are quite young can read it for yourselves. In both The Tain and in Deirdre we find the love of fighting, the brave joy of the strong man when he finds a gallant foe. The Tain is such history as those far-off times afforded, but it is history touched with fancy, wrought with poetry. In the Three Sorrows we have Romance. They are 11

24 English Literature what we might call the novels of the time. It is in stories like these that we find the keen sense of what is beautiful in nature, the sense of man s brotherhood with bird and beast, star and flower, which has become the mark of Celtic literature. We cannot put it into words, perhaps, for it is something mystic and strange, something that takes us nearer fairyland and makes us see that land of dreams with clearer eyes. Books To Read The Celtic Wonder World, by Clara Linklater Thomson; Horace Marshall & Son, The Enchanted Land (for version of Deirdre), by L. Chisholm; G.P. Putnam & Sons, Three Sorrows (verse), by Douglas Hyde; T. Fisher Unwin, Theophilus O Flanagan. 2. Douglas Hyde. 3. Ancient Gaelic writing. 4. Douglas Hyde. 12